


Frustration

by diabolical22



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 19:25:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diabolical22/pseuds/diabolical22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zlatan wrapped his arms around Xavi’s shoulders and murmured in his ear: “I will show you. Zlatan will prove himself to you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frustration

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this kinkmeme prompt](http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/9768.html?thread=4688168#t4688168) (one that wrote myself and couldn't resist filling haha) which is essentially this picture:
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'd and concrit welcome.

Everyone was celebrating around him, but all Xavi felt was frustration.

He grabbed Zlatan’s chin and pulled him down. “You need to listen to me. That almost didn’t work. You’ve got to be more humble.”

Thierry laughed in the background.

Zlatan leaned down further, coming eye to eye with Xavi. “I’m getting tired of you and Andrés passing to Messi. I am Zlatan, I will score, I always do.”

“Leo will listen to us! Leo understands that more than pride and ego are at stake!” Xavi wanted to strangle him. So much potential to fit in seamlessly with Barça, and yet he kept on rebelling and pushing against team.

Zlatan wrapped his arms around Xavi’s shoulders and murmured in his ear: “I will show you. Zlatan will prove himself to you.” Xavi could feel Zlatan’s breath against his ear. He twisted out of the embrace and jogged down the pitch.

 

\----------

 

Zlatan sauntered out of the showers. He’d taken a longer shower than usual hoping to wash away some of his annoyance from the match.

He’d walked halfway across the empty the dressing room before he noticed Xavi, still in full kit, standing in one corner of the room, staring blankly into space.

Zlatan walked up to him and flipped his wet hair so it was dripping right onto Xavi’s face. “Hello. Xavi. Are you there?”

Xavi blinked and opened his mouth. Some of the water trickled down his nose and onto his lower lip. Xavi licked it up and glanced at him from beneath his lashes. “Yes, yes I’m fine. Just thinking.”

Zlatan huffed. “Still worried about the match? Not everything needs to be perfect against a team like Xerez. We won and we move on.”

“This is what I was talking about - your attitude. We have the capacity to win the treble again this season - _again_! We cannot achieve this with such flippancy, we must always excel.” 

Zlatan slid a hand through Xavi’s sweaty hair and pulled his head back. “You don’t think I understand? That I cannot prioritize? I want to win, Xavi! I want _us_ to win! You must trust me to perform for you!”

They stood there, panting, pressed tightly against each other. Zlatan slowly leaned in and bit down on Xavi’s lower lip. Xavi moaned and slid his hands across Zlatan’s bare chest.

Zlatan yanked at Xavi’s hair again then started kissing him, sucking on his tongue. Xavi slipped a hand down Zlatan’s gym shorts. Zlatan grabbed his wrist. “Wait. Let me.”

He quickly tugged off their clothes then sank down to his knees.

Xavi cupped his face. “You don’t have to do this to prove a point.”

“I know.”

Zlatan nosed at Xavi’s thick, hard cock. Xavi tightened his grip and guided his cock into Zlatan’s mouth. Just the taste made Zlatan’s cock throb. He fisted his cock and jerked off as Xavi thrust again and again into his mouth.

Xavi’s rhythm stuttered then he came down Zlatan’s throat. Zlatan moaned and jerk himself off until he spilled all over his hand.

Zlatan sat back on his heels and smirked. "Now you're happy with Zlatan, yes?


End file.
